Disciple
by xoxfiresignx
Summary: OS Mikada. Teru is devoted to Kira. He'll do anything for him, including killing the woman he loves. [Possible spoilers, if you haven't watched or read it all.]


**A/N :**

**Okay, so this is my first attempt at a Death Note fic, but I'm going to give it a shot.**

**I love Teru Mikami, so I wanted to write about him.**

**I know that Mikami and Takada never actually meet, but I decided that Mikami needs a girl, and since it can't be me, and Misa is a loser, it'll have to be Takada, even though I hate her. I would develop an OC for him, but this is a one-shot.**

**This is set right after Takada kills Mello (tear), and right before Mikami gets captured (manga)/ kills himself (anime). I'm going mainly from the anime, because it's more dramatic that way.**

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**Disciple**

_God . . . why have you left me?!_

He hadn't heard from God since he'd ordered him, through Takada, to make a fake notebook. It seemed to him that God had no further need of him.

_I should accept what God gave me_, he thought, pacing back and forth from his cell phone, plugged in to charge, to his television, on the other side of the living room. _Accept that He gave me the opportunity of a lifetime, that he chose me over all others . . ._

But it was hard, dammit! He had held power, true power, in his hands. Had made justice something real, made the name of Kira something to fear, to truly worship.

Now his power was gone, and he was left lonely, agonizing over each and every criminal he saw on the television. Usually they died — Takada must be doing her job — but sometimes they were spared, and he ached with the urge to delete them. But he couldn't even write the names in his fake notebook to appease himself; the SPK were following him, taking pictures of his every written page.

It was like a poison, having that agent stalking him. A venom in his veins that had no antidote. It's name was Gevanni, and it was a scourge upon the earth. But it's last name never came to him; he never saw it's face. It frustrated him, eluding his every attempt to delete it. But soon he'd be able to destroy it. God would let him.

Takada hadn't contacted him for days. Maybe even weeks. He missed her voice and the assurance that God was watching, was approving of his methods. He missed her voice, speaking directly to him . . .

The cell phone rang, its bright sound seeming to pierce through him and stop him in his tracks. He stared at it for a moment, then ran to it, nearly tripping over himself, his glasses halfway down his nose as he snatched it up.

_Takada Kiyomi_. He read the name on his caller display again before he could be sure. _Takada Kiyomi!_

"Takada."

"I want to meet you," her voice, breathless, was dear to his ears. He didn't even care that she said nothing about God. "T, I _need_ to meet you. I have to."

"Where?"

She gasped. "Where do you live?" He told her the address, his heart pounding. _Am I really about to —_

The doorbell rang.

— _see her in the flesh?_

She fell into his arms when he opened the door. Surprised and taken aback, he caught her and half-carried her into his apartment.

"_He's going to kill me_," she whispered, holding tightly to him.

"Who is?"

"_Kira."_

_God? No, he wouldn't kill Takada, not after everything she'd done for him. Would he?_

"Why?"

"I followed his instructions. I did what he told me to. But I know names. I know his name. I have to die." She looked up, noticed his dismayed expression, and touched his cheek. "It must be this way. Kira's world will actually exist. I just —" she broke off, staring at him. She seemed to be trying to memorize him, and he slid one hand up to the back of her neck. "I needed to see you, before —"

"I understand."

"I can't believe it's you, Mikami," she said, burying her face into his chest. "I knew it had to be someone who knew me, but —"

He kissed her. _She was talking too much._ She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, their lips pressed together. They stood there for a long time — even after the kiss ended, they just stood, holding on to each other, both knowing what would happen.

"It's Friday," he said, quietly.

"I know." They stared at each other, then pulled apart. He kissed her forehead once.

_We both die tonight, Kiyomi._

She left without another word, the door slamming behind her. He moved to the counter and opened a drawer. The notebook sat there, the real one, the one he'd been forbidden to write in. He pulled out a pen and wrote a name.

_Kiyomi Takada_.

He checked the paper where he'd written the address of the warehouse one more time,one last time, and grabbed his coat.


End file.
